Jul/Aug 2023

July /August 2023 47
“Was the role of the chapel attendant helpful to
the proceedings?” In a word, well, two words:
“Not really.” But I elaborated: in bitterly cold
conditions, the attendant had refused to allow
our patiently waiting crowd of mostly elderly
mourners to enter the cosy, deserted chapel
just four minutes before our designated time
slot, on the grounds that we’d all have to
be turned out again if the undertaker failed
to show up with the body. I asked if our
particular undertaker, who came strongly
recommended, had ever been known to miss
the deadline, so to speak. But by then, the
attendant had hurried inside to keep warm.
“There is current technology available that
will allow heat recovered from the cremation
process to provide heating for the chapels.
Would you find this proposal objectionable?”
Frankly, a question better left unasked. Too
much information, I thought. But something
to ponder over still. Not over the principle
of the thing of course. We children of the
recycling age could scarcely take exception
to such an eco-friendly stratagem. But rather
over the nature of the available “current
technology.” Current, hinting at something
new. Technology suggestive of computer
wizardry. But surely pipes had been pretty
standard equipment for centuries?
The last question: the finale: “Would you like to
be involved in our Cemetery Feedback Group?” A
winsome plea: “Do let’s keep in touch. We know
cemeteries aren’t bread and butter to you but
they are to us, so please come back and tell us
how we are doing.” Who knows? Perhaps it was
at just such a feedback group that successful
policy changes were hatched that led to the
much coveted accolade, ‘Cemetery of the
Year 2001’. I noticed this printed boldly on the
receipt when I paid for the urn. How had this
honour been achieved? On what criteria?
Presumably, there are only so many prettiest
villages in Essex to inspect in an average year.
Do the same panels of judges fill up their
fallow periods strolling around graveyards
with their clipboards, awarding points for
an extra-clean catacomb and a well-swept
vault, high-quality plastic grass matting and
tenderly pruned memorial roses?
Is it shocking to be so frivolous about a
subject so serious? Our local ‘places of rest’ are,
of course, superbly run. But funerals do, not
infrequently, attract somewhat dark humour,
don’t they? Is it something that makes it easier
to cope? In fact, often, the Order of Service
may include an imagined, upbeat message
from the departed, much-mourned friend.
Something along these lines?
I’d like the memory of me to be a happy one.
I’d like to leave an afterglow of smiles when
life is done.
To contact DD with your thoughts or
feedback, email dd@swvg.co.uk
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